


Protector

by sleepingseeker



Category: Ninja Turtles, TMNT (2007), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Complete, Gen, Supernatural Elements, turtle tot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingseeker/pseuds/sleepingseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael has a night terror – one he so often has when Splinter isn't home – of a shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed – two glowing eyes, wide apart and bright, blinding him. An omen of an inevitable future. A brother protects as best as he can. But how can you guard a sibling against the shadows of things to come?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protector

The shriek was short, sharp and cut off almost as quickly as it began. But it was enough to have Leonardo rolling off the tatami mat where he's fallen asleep while trying to meditate as he awaited his father's return; jumping up and running towards the source. He didn't need to spare a second trying to guess from where it came. It came from the place it so often originated from when Splinter left: Raphael's room.

His feet prickled with pins and needles from sleeping in the awkward position; something they were not supposed to do while mediating and he felt the sting of failure, but brushed it aside. Each step a defiance of the sharp bites of pain in favor of the panic thrumming through his small chest. The distance between his brother's room and the one he shared with Mikey was merely a span of a few feet, hardly even more than two yards, but by the time he arrived, gripping the door frame to stop his forward momentum, he was out of breath and chilled to the bone.

Inside, Raph sat, upright against his pillow, fists firmly under his chin; holding the frayed cotton blanket like a shield to ward off whatever had him so completely freaked. His eyes were round and gazing into the air in front of him. It was the same every time. Leonardo squared his shoulders as though standing straighter could chase the thrill of fear away that always hit him when his brother was like this.

Being eight meant that Leonardo was held responsible for the safety of his brothers and the general guarding of their home whenever Master Splinter left the lair to scavenge. Mostly this was done at night; fear of discovery ever a nagging ghost dogging the rat's every move, layering every decision with apprehension, anxiety and reconsiderations before moving forward with any confidence. Four young children depended on him to bring back supplies, food, and to be generally looked after. The world above was wide and wild, unpredictable and cruel; full of those that would only hurt, exploit or kill these innocents simply for the way they appeared. Caution and stealth became his compass and shadow, for survival was paramount and whether he succeeded to live another day, another season, another year, or met an early demise, his fate was tied irrevocably to theirs. Failure was simply not an option. He would not let them down.

But it also meant there were some sacrifices that had to be made. Of them, the burden of the eldest to be hardened for the inevitable possibility that one day he may not return. So the boy with the bright, gentle eyes he had taken and had begun to mold him into bearing the weight of responsibility that the others, mercifully, could be spared. There was no room for error. To spare the suffering of them all, the one would bear the realities of life that was anything but soft or kind. He would need to be strong. He would need to be hard. He would need to be forged into something like steel, much like the rigid, unyielding swords that he had planned on bestowing to the eldest when he turned ten years of age. It was not pleasant nor did it come easy on his weary mind, but he took what comfort he could from the knowledge that it was, after all, for the greater good of their small clan. For when he was gone, there would be someone capable and balanced, confident and unemotional to guide them, protect them and lead them.

Tonight he'd gone off as soon as he could, but it was late into the evening and the smaller children had already gone to bed. The sultry summer evenings stretched languid fingers of intrusive white light through what was otherwise safe passages any other time of the year, and so he was forced these last two trips, to leave later and later. It never sat well to leave the little ones as they slumbered, so he tasked the eldest to remain awake until he left and to remain awake until he returned. The latter he would do as quickly as he could. No more than a few hours at most. The bleary eyed youngster nodded in understanding as he readied to leave; slinging a pack over one shoulder, well after ten o'clock in the evening. He was to guard their safe haven and his siblings until his return. He was to remain vigilant and watchful.

Leonardo stepped deeper into his younger brother's room. Dispelling the strange pull of eerie fright that dragged slick fingers along the back of his neck. He glanced at the Hulk Hogan alarm clock on the floor next to the bed. It was after one in the morning and his father was still not home. Again the guilt at failing to stay focused and awake, awaiting the arrival of their Sensei, welled up. But at that moment, Raphael made a small frightened sound. It was enough to have his toes sweeping deftly across the remaining divide, skipping into a graceful leap lest his feet come too close to the darkness lurking just beneath the edge of his brother's bed. A stumbling of his heart as he made the jump, a startling clench of his jaws as fright nipped the back of his shell.

He landed with arms already wrapping around his brother. But Raphael's gaze was locked forward and his breath was short; broken huffs as if he didn't have the strength to pull in one single deep inhale. Leo positioned himself as he always did. Slightly behind his brother, one arm around his shell the other around the front of his chest, eyes locked on the same space of air that his brother was so focused on; seeing nothing; knowing there was nothing to be afraid of; but feeling the fear despite the rationale; tasting the cold spot in the center of his mouth; feeling his brother's shaking calm to trembling once embraced; protected; tethered back to a reality where they were safe and shadows couldn't hurt you. Not really.

"Do you see it?" the younger asked.

"No."

"It's right there."

"I don't see anything. There's nothing there."

"It's staring at me."

"Well, I'm here now."

Raphael fell silent and his trembling ebbed away; blinking as if coming back from a dream, only then did he turn his head, eyes going to one side to look at his older brother; his guardian; his shield; the only thing that made the black demon with the shining eyes fade and vanish. The demon that came to stand at the foot of his bed night after night when their home fell still and their father slipped into the wilds of the outside world; so big; like an open mouth, gaping and hungry; waiting to swallow him whole. The demon would stand, darker than shadow, wide and imposing and twin beams would blind him. Raph thought that maybe the bright circular lights were the monster's eyes. But he wasn't sure. Because he couldn't ask anyone except his own recollection from the previous night's terrifying visit. Leonardo's presence would send it away; reluctantly it would fade; but Leonardo did not see it.

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

Because he felt his younger brother's fear and it was as real as his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth; he felt his younger brother's hammering heart against his palm as real as his own, matching almost in tandem, the rhythm pounding out the seconds stretching out between them in that darkness. The darkness that hid the danger. The darkness that one day they would need to accept and triumph over but until then, they feared and cowered before its mystery; its power.

"Why does it keep coming back?"

"I dunno. It's a nightmare. I have them, too, sometimes, Raphie."

"No. It's real. I see it when my eyes are open."

Leo fell silent. It was the same night after night. Raphael was starting to breathe fast and heavy, getting upset. Leonardo felt a need to protect and soothe, despite a flare of irritation that his brother was nearly the same age as him and he needed to grow up. Like him. Needed to see there was nothing in the shadows, not really. And what had Sensei just told him that morning? To blend as one with the shadows, to melt within the darkness and become . . . he couldn't remember the rest as he yawned, great and wide, leaning the side of his face against his brother's head.

"It is real. I'm not seeing things. It was right there. My eyes were open, Leo. They were open."

"Shh. Raphie. It's not coming back, because it's not real," he insisted and decided the grown up thing to do would be to make his brother feel safe, he added, "I'll stay. If it makes you feel better." He hadn't meant for it to sound like anything other than an offer of support, but something tainted the words as they hung between them. Almost sounding like a taunt; a challenge.

Silence fell for a beat. Another, as Raphael was torn between not wanting to be a baby and not wanting to be left alone with that demon. Because it did come back. Night after night. It was the same thing. Sometimes, paralyzed by fright, he would lay and stare back into the flat, black plane that made up the demon's face. He would stare until he thought he could make out his own face, eyes wide with fear, reflected there in the matte pane of glass-like, expressionless, emptiness where the monster's face should have been. With Leonardo bracing him, keeping him protected and shielded, he could consider the demon more carefully. The monster seemed somehow familiar, like something from a half-remembered memory, buried and hidden in the sand with only the very edge poking through to tantalize with comprehension; or a vision from another place or another time. The shape, the form of it. But he couldn't concentrate for long as Leonardo started to move, taking his silence to mean he didn't want him to stay. He gripped his brother's arm through the blanket. He held it there firmly against his body, pressing it as hard as he could.

"Don't go."

Leonardo shrugged, yawned again and this time his brother's yawn followed. He settled back into the pillow. Raphael clung to his arm, but held it less rigidly as he relaxed with the calming notion that Leo was not going anywhere. He rested his head back on his brother's chest, feeling the strong steady heartbeat of the one he trusted almost as much as his own father. The fear abated. Comfort and a quiet peace settled over him. His eyes grew heavy. His breathing slowing to match Leonardo's.

"Thanks," he slurred.

"Just for a bit. I have to wait up for Sensei," Leo replied, but his voice grew smaller with each word. The warmth of his brother's body lulling him into a stupor that dipped him towards a deep and dreamless slumber.

Another hour and Splinter crept back into his home. His watchful eyes scanned around, looking for sign of his eldest son. He took the strap of the bag, laden with a win-fall of canned goods and tools, a broken space heater that he was certain he could repair and a pack of flashcards in English and Spanish. He set the bag down and stepped lightly through his home, checking for Leonardo in his room, but only finding Mikey snoring loudly, spread eagle, half out of his bed. Splinter smiled gently and coaxed the boy's lower body back up onto the mattress and then spread the blanket over him, tucking in the sides, before turning and continuing his search.

He peered into Donatello's room, which was a makeshift library and laboratory, filled and scattered with half-finished drawings, textbooks and boxes full of what his clever son labeled 'samples': rocks, leaves, feathers and other bits of curious objects that had captured his son's attention and curiosity. He sighed and rolled Donatello back onto the air mattress set in one corner. A line of drool connected his bottom lip to the biology book he'd fallen asleep reading. The pages lined and written over in that neat, tiny script that was identifiable as only Donatello's could be. He found the blanket rolled up and used as a support for his chest where he had laid reading. Splinter unrolled it and flapped it over his slumbering child. Donnie mumbled and his feet and toes twitched as he dreamed.

Splinter moved on and stopped in the doorway of his second oldest child. He tilted his head, considering the two boys nestled and sleeping snug and soundly, snoring lightly in a matched pattern that had him chuckling. Both faces looked cherub-like in the shadows, unburdened and at peace. He sighed and rested his hand on Leonardo's shoulder, shaking him gently awake. He blinked and stared with glossy eyes out into the darkness then settled in more and returned to closing his eyes.

"Leonardo."

The sound of his father's voice had his blood shot eyes snapping fully open. He jolted and rubbed his right eye as Raphael grumbled and rolled to the side, towards the wall.

"I-I . . . he had a nightmare."

"Shh, my son. We shall speak of it in the morning."

Splinter helped Leonardo slide from the bed and in a rare move, stooped to scoop the boy up into his arms as he had done when Leo was much smaller. There would be time for hardening hearts and forging children into steeled instruments later. For now, he wanted this, selfishly maybe, for himself. This precious fleeting moment like sand through open fingers. The boy did not protest but snuggled closer to his chest, already falling back into a deep sleep, one small hand positioned over his father's heart, protecting it; shielding it and making it weaker all at once.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Any guesses as to what Raphael was seeing? heh heh I think you know. 
> 
> I've been reading upon Turtleficlibrary's (Nye) recommendation an incredible series by Aubretia Lycania and am currently on part 3: Walking the Line. 
> 
> I do believe that while this story is its own universe and means to have no connection with any of the characterizations in Lycania's verse, (you'd know what I mean if you read it) I was influenced to write this from reading that story. :) It's only fair that I mention where I was so deeply inspired.


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